The Metamorphosis of Jason Hogart
by ohmyann
Summary: What if Jay had been the one to face down Rick rather than Sean? How would it change him? How would it change Degrassi? Cue: Confusion, awakenings, and whole new perspectives.
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is just a little bit of post-finals fun, since I'm secretly a huge Degrassi freak. I always wondered how different the characters would be if Jay had been the one to face down Rick, rather than Sean. The dynamics could've been interesting and would've opened up an entirely different side to Jay, especially considering the shooting was indirectly his fault, as well. Also, this is not a romantically "charged," so to speak, piece buuuut I have a total soft spot for Emma/Jay, so this will probably evolve into a relationship between the two of them, as a sub-plot at the very least. Mostly, though, it deals with Jay's metamorphosis from one-dimensional bully to a real character.**

--

My saliva was as thick as molasses. I was barely able to swallow as my brain registered exactly what I had done. To Jimmy. To – Jimmy. I heard him scream as his body collapsed under the weight of the bullet. Blood instantaneously trickled down from the small wound that was inflicted. The wound that I inflicted upon him, a boy at the age of...well, I never really knew his age. He must only be sixteen, I suppose. Such a small number in the grand scheme of things. Numbers are endless, unlike life. I guess it doesn't take a genius to figure that one out, though. I guess no one ever really needs a genius in high school at all, except to humiliate, torture, hunt, kill. I may have killed Jimmy in that instant. No, he didn't die, I know that now, but at that point, I didn't know if he was dead or not. I did know, though, that it didn't matter if I killed him. Why? Simple.

He.

Killed.

Me.

_First._

The second the paint fell onto me, Rick was dead.

Well, maybe not. When the paint fell onto me, a different Rick was created. One who cared about nothing but vengeance. Inigo Montoya, at your service. You killed my father, prepare to die. ...You killed my soul, prepare to die. Especially after Emma, beautiful, sweet, wonderful Emma, revealed that her only feelings towards me were those of pity. Like I wanted her pity. She was no one! She was this idiotic little slip of a girl who only cared about being accepted. That, and oil spills in the Arctic, which kill thousands of animals, causing them pain, anguish. If she was any sort of human being, she would have felt more for my suffering than the suffering of stupid animals. Animals don't have souls. I do. I did.

I wasn't going to do it, though. After Paige told me that she thought it was sick and accepted my apology, I wasn't going to do it. I was going to turn around and go home. Then, possibly stay home until my torturous life ended. That, or I would've called Toby to play some video games, I'm really not sure anymore.

No, the moment Rick died was in the bathroom. I was crying, like the little pussy I am, when I overheard Gavin "Spinner" Mason and Jay Hogart speaking in hushed tones about the paint incident. Spinner and Jay had been two of my least favorite people in the world, to the point that I vandalized their cars. I just couldn't take it anymore and after Jay had begun to beat me in the alley behind The Dot, I just felt like I needed to do something to assert myself as a man. I knew Spinner would be angry, but Jay...Jay lived for his car. I think if he had any emotions towards anyone, it wasn't his girlfriend, his friends, hell – I doubt he even had real feelings for his parents. No, if he felt anything for anyone, it was his baby. His stupid orange Civic, infamous around Degrassi...and I just knew it was the only way to get to him. I think I could've repeatedly hit his ugly girlfriend over the head with an electrified cattle prod until she whimpered away her last breath and he still would've been more upset about the tag on his car. Yet, he didn't do anything about it. In fact, he told me that we were "cool." Only because I was smart and was about to bring Degrassi to a staggering, lightning round victory. He seemed…proud. Well, I know better now, but at the time...it was amazing to me. I was finally finding acceptance. What a joke. I half-expected to hear Jay and Spinner admit to setting the whole thing up. What I did hear come out of Jay's mouth was what finally did me in.

"Jimmy set the whole thing up perfectly. The way he got those easy sports questions wrong..."

The next twenty minutes or so were a blur.

Until I pulled the trigger.

Suddenly, everything was crystal clear.

That's when I shot Jimmy.

The star of the basketball team. Everyone's favorite guy. The token black kid. A bully. Someone I thought...I thought he was my friend. He was Terri's friend...

I snapped my eyes shut.

NO.

That's when I panicked. My thoughts raced. I killed him and he was dead and I did it and I'll go to jail and they'll call it a hate crime and I'd die in prison and what if someone raped me and would anyone love me and I need to get Toby out of here and Emma, that bitch, Emma, I love Emma and I hate her and I should rip her throat out and I hate her and I hate the world and what have I done and I needed air and why was there no air and oh, there's no air no air need air and I was thinking in a run-on sentence and OH GOD and Terri and –

My mind stopped, then. Finally.

Son of a bitch deserved it.

I took slow, painfully slow steps down the hallway. These hallways once held so much promise for me, for Terri, for my love, and – more recently - for my redemption. If my motor functions were properly...well, functioning, I probably would have laughed one of those cold laughs authors always assign to the villain. Because that's what I am, right? The villain of the tale, of the school, of the whole of Toronto. I shot someone. Naturally, I'm the bad guy.

Nothing ever works out the way you plan it, children. All I wanted was acceptance from the people I hurt the most. I know I hurt them. I know it. I...hurt Terri, a girl who was so sweet and wonderful that she shouldn't have even looked at a geek like me. She did, though. She loved me. I still think that, at the end of the day, if she had stayed at Degrassi and not transferred to some private school, we would have been together. She would have seen how much I had changed and what assholes her friends were. Fight violence with violence, that's a sound policy. Unfortunately, she wasn't there to save me. The only one who was there to save me, she hurt me – in ways worse than I ever could have hurt Terri. Images of a gorgeous blonde filled my mind. Emma smiling at me, encouraging me...rejecting me. Harshly, to say the least.

To say that I was angry would be an understatement. However, it was as though I had blown a fuse. I couldn't feel anything. Hence, my ability to speak so calmly about this now. That, plus the fact that I'm dead, though I suppose that's irrelevant.

I apologize for numerous sentence fragments above. Grammar was one of my specialties in life; as were most other academic subjects. Also, Dungeons & Dragons.

Anyway, as I was stepping away from Jimmy's body, I heard Craig's voice, cracking, whisper his name. They'd know it was me, eventually. It wasn't time yet, though. I had another score to settle. A couple of seconds later, though, I heard a rushing of feet. Craig ran past me. He was so flustered that he ran right by me. The gunman. It was kind of funny. I stopped behind the trophy case and watched as he grabbed someone's arm, a blonde boy, casually walking out of class, bathroom pass in tow. I had seen him before. His eyebrows were difficult to miss.

"Sean, do you have a cell phone?" Craig ran his fingers through his hair. He was vain, even in an emergency situation; typical of a guitarist.

"Um, Craig, we haven't spoken in over a year. Borrow someone else's." Sean started to push past, a tough guy, aloof, but Craig grabbed his arm.

"Sean, someone shot Jimmy." That got Tough Guy's attention.

"Shot? As in..._gunshot_? Is he okay? Wait, why are you talking to me? What are you doing?! Get a teacher, man!" They ran off. No one even checked Jimmy's pulse. What lackbrains. That's just an observation, though, it doesn't really matter because that's when I heard _them_. Rather, that's when I heard her. I turned around and watched the scene unfold before me. It was Toby, Emma, and...Jay.

"I know you were behind this! I swear to God, as soon as I have proof, I'm going straight to Mr. Raditch. Then, if we're lucky, your ass will be expelled and I'll never have to see your stupid face ever again." Emma's arms were folded. She had obviously accosted Jay as he was trying to skip out on class. She was talking about me. Like she cared. She didn't, I can tell you that. What Emma cared about was her image. Not me.

"Whatever, Greenpeace. Nice agenda." Jay rolled his eyes, he started to walk away. Emma stepped in front of him.

"Are you that heartless, Jay? He was traumatized. I'd be shocked if he ever comes back to Degrassi."

"Good! Mission accomplished, then!" Jay's eyes sparked, I noted.

"Why do you even care?!" Emma screamed, "You didn't know Terri."

"No, _you _didn't know Terri." Jay corrected quickly, "Which is why you defend that little shithead."

"Well, even if you did know Terri, my guess is you made her life hell!" As much as I once loved Emma before I decided she needed to have her brain splattered across the walls of her high school, I always found her voice to be very screechy and just a smidge whiny, "Just like you do with everyone else, unless they're drug dealers or sluts or whatever. And was that a confession before? You know, "mission accomplished?" Because I'll quote what you said to Raditch, don't think I won't..."

"He's a psycho, Emma." Jay cut Emma off, "I may not be a peach, but even I have limits on the type of people I associate with."

"Bullshit, Jay. You just get off on others' misery."

"Okay. Fine. Yes. I cum in my pants every time a baby cries. Now, move. I need a smoke." Jay put his hands on Emma's shoulders, deliberately moving her out of his way. She slapped his hands off of her, stepping back. Her brown eyes glowered.

"You're disgusting and no one deserved what happened to Rick, even if he did put a girl in a coma. That was then, this is now. And now, you're the bad guy." As she seethed, Jay looked at the ceiling, balling his hands into tight fists, a tight, strained grimace marring his features.

"Nelson, you're really starting to piss-"

"Emma, let's go. We have to find Rick." Toby finally said something. I had forgotten he was even standing there, watching the fight between Emma and Jay.

Incidentally, that was also my cue.

"Emma." Three eyes were suddenly on me. It was as if time stood still.

"Go home, freak." Those were the first words out of Jay's mouth as he stared me down moments later. He obviously didn't see the gun or he might've thought twice before crossing me.

"Hello, Emma." I said, my voice monotonous, my steps still slow and calculated, "Sorry I kissed you."

"Rick, what are you doing?" Emma was confused. A confused blonde. It was like a joke. I pulled the gun out further. I was so close.

"Nelson, Isaacs, get out of here." Jay's eyes were wide. I wanted to laugh. Whoever thought that Jay Hogart, Mr. I'm-the-Big-Bad would be scared of meek, little Rick? Not so meek anymore.

"You know my last name?" Toby asked. Idiotic Toby.

"I'm not joking around. He has a gun, go." Jay was whispering, yet he was screaming at the same time. Fool thought I wouldn't hear him, but I did. Emma's bottom lip quivered, her big doe brown eyes filling with silent tears as she began to back into the adjoining hallway. She and Toby were both shaking, I noticed, as they...turned. They were going away. They were about to leave, they were walking away. Away from me?! NO ONE...no one walks away from me! Not now! Not after everything I went through!

"Don't turn away from me!" I screamed. Emma and Toby froze. Jay automatically reached his hand out to Emma, a move I wasn't expecting, "Toby, Jay. You two can leave," Toby looked at Jay, who shook his head, "I mean it, leave! This is about Emma and me."

"No fucking way, man. You're not going to touch her, do you understand?" Jay's grip on Emma's arm tightened, "Now, put the gun down and we'll deal with this later, okay?"

"Last time I checked, I'm the one with the gun, so I call the shots, punk." I said, looking Jay up and down, "While you may not be on my list, I have no problem –"

"You don't have the balls to do anything, little boy. Now, put the gun down before I turn it around on you." Jay hissed, "I bet there aren't even any bullets in that thing."

"Jay, stop it." Emma cried. She was sobbing now, still quietly. It was almost dignified, "Don't taunt him."

"I'd listen to her if I were you, Jay. I wouldn't mess with me. Don't think I forgot our little encounter at The Dot. Emma saved me. Who knows what you might've done."

"What I should've done. Put the gun down, Rick. You've made your point. It isn't funny." Jay was looking me straight in the eyes now. I wanted to scream. Instead, I just hardened my clutch on the gun. It was almost time.

"Why don't you ask Jimmy Brooks how funny it was?" I whispered.

"Jimmy?" Toby choked out, "What happened to Jimmy?"

"I shot him." When I looked back at Jay, it was the strangest thing. The look on his face, it was – it was like nothing I had ever seen before. His mouth had dropped and his brows furrowed, but his eyes – there was emotion or something resembling emotion, anyway. I couldn't quite place it, but it looked like...guilt? Remorse? Compassion? Shock? Perhaps all. He was still blocking Emma, but he wasn't looking at me anymore. He was looking at the ground, his eyes darting about, everywhere.

"B-bullshit." Jay stammered, his voice gravelly, "You wouldn't. That's bullshit. Jimmy – you're just trying to scare me."

"Yes, I am. However, that doesn't make the truth of that statement any less so. The police should be here momentarily. I've just come to finish, with Emma."

"Rick, Emma's your friend." Toby said. He made eye contact with Jay, as though Jay had the answers. It's no wonder. Of the three, Jay was certainly the Alpha Male. Taller, stronger, most likely had street experience. You know, 'street.'

"No. She's not." I pointed the gun, "She's a bitch."

What happened next occurred in approximately three seconds. Jay jumped me, wrestling me to the ground. I pulled the trigger, without realizing that Jay had twisted my arm and, consequently, the gun. He howled in pain when the bullet pierced through the void and I felt a warm liquid seep all over me. For a split second of those three seconds, I thought I had shot Jay. Then, I realized, it was coming from my own wound. It was...my blood...

Finally, all was black.

--


	2. Chapter One

**A/N: Yes, this is a chapter story. This one is dealing directly with Emma and Jay, though the story as a whole is not entirely about them. I just thought it would make sense to get their confrontation out of the way. Okay? Okay.**

**Disclaimer: Apparently, I don't own Degrassi.**

**--**

Emma Nelson sat quietly on a chair. She sighed, needing to think in such simple terms. It was only a chair, right? It was not a chair on the fifth floor of a hospital. It wasn't a chair seeped in sorrow. Emma crinkled her nose at her own corny terminology, but decided that the meaning wasn't any less true. She _didn't_ want to think about how many people had sat in this chair, awaiting news of a loved one, only to hear the worst. No, she couldn't bear that. Nor could she bear the idea that she was not awaiting news of a loved one, but rather a hated one. A hated one who, under any other circumstances, she wouldn't be visiting. _But these aren't any other circumstances, Emma._ She felt her insides disappear as her mind trailed back to the day before and onto the reason she was holding a stuffed bunny rabbit for the one person she detested most in the universe. Emma looked down at the toy in her hands. It was a blue bunny, with big purple eyes and a painted on purple smile, made of a fuzzy fleece material. The bunny held a big red heart in its paws and the heart proclaimed that the receiver should get well and if at all possible, soon, please. It was hideous.

"He's going to hate that, you know." Emma sucked in her breath, startled. She forgot Manny was with her. She had gone to the vending machine over a half hour ago, so it really wasn't surprising that Emma would forget, with the million thoughts racing through her blonde head at any given second. _She probably ran into Craig, _Emma pondered, suddenly feeling guilty that she wasn't more concerned about Jimmy. Not that they were best friends or anything, but still. He was a good guy. Manny flopped down in the chair next to Emma, snacking on something cheesy and salty. She silently offered the bag to Emma, who refused with a shake of her head. Shrugging, Manny continued to eat.

"I know, but I couldn't go in empty handed. This was the least offensive gift they had in the store. Well, offensive in the Jay Hogart sense."

"And what sense would that be?" Manny was stroking Emma's hair, which made the blonde want to roll her eyes. Manny was far from motherly.

"Cutesy, of course. Why do you think he hates me so much? I'm simply too adorable for him to handle." Emma joked, gently toying with the rabbit's left ear. She couldn't look at Manny when she said that because she knew it was too early to joke, really. _I guess it's a defense mechanism or something_, Emma thought, still trying to get a grip on what exactly she was feeling at this moment or any moment.

"So you went for disgustingly ugly instead? It looks like a dog chewed on it or something." Manny laughed.

"Precisely." Emma smiled up at Manny, then looked back down again. _Shit_. Manny sighed and touched Emma's shoulder.

"He saved your life, Em. I don't think that's something you do for someone you hate."

"Don't read too far into it. It just shows that he's not a total cretin. He probably would've done it for anyone, shocking as it is for me to admit." Emma said, absent-mindedly taking a cracker from Manny's snack-sized bag, "He knew he was stronger than Rick, as opposed to..." She trailed off, but the brunette was officially curious.

"As opposed to...what?" Manny raised one eyebrow.

"Toby." Emma stated matter-of-factly, "I think Toby feels like he didn't do enough. That's why he isn't here. He couldn't save me or..." She trailed off again, catching herself.

"Or who? Who else got hurt? Jimmy? You guys weren't even near Jimmy when he got shot." Manny obviously didn't get it, Emma mused.

"Toby couldn't save Rick." She whispered, looking into Manny's eyes, which filled with immediate disdain, "Trust me, I have just as low of an opinion towards his ghost as anyone. Probably lower, since he actually pointed the gun at me, but he was Toby's closest friend. Only friend, really. You know he didn't deal with J.T. getting popular or whatever."

"Okay," Manny put her hands up, "hanging out with Danny Van Zandt does not make one popular."

"More so than hanging out with Toby Isaacs." Emma was tearing up, "He thought things would get better after befriending Rick. Instead, things just got...worse. So much worse."

"You talked to Toby about this?" Emma shook her head.

"No, I've just had a lot of time to analyze the situation." Emma was beginning to feel sick, she needed to change the subject. "So what took you so long at the vending machine?"

"Craig was there," Manny said, confirming Emma's suspicions, "We got talking about Jimmy."

"How is he?"

"Jimmy? Well," Manny stretched her legs out, not making eye contact with Emma, "He's...stable, I guess. He's still unconscious, but the doctors say he'll pull through. He might be crippled, though, for awhile."

"Crippled? Crippled how?" Emma's eyebrows went up in alarm. This was the first she heard of this.

"I guess the bullet pierced through Jimmy's vertebrae. He's actually really lucky. A couple of inches over and up and he'd be dead." Manny shuddered, "Anyway, Craig says he probably won't be able to walk for awhile."

"How long is awhile?" Emma didn't particularly want to hear the answer.

"Indefinitely."

"Oh."

The pair sat in silence over the next few minutes, each left to their own thoughts. Emma swiftly wiped away slowly falling tears, feeling her resolve to not have a complete mental breakdown begin to crumble. _Nothing happened to you, Emma_, she inwardly reminded herself, _You're the lucky one._

"Yeah, really lucky." Emma whispered to herself, wrapping her arms around her body as the tears began to flow. She noticed that Manny didn't say anything. In fact, Manny wouldn't even look at her. Emma let out a short laugh. Of course. Jimmy's and Jay's physical ailments were concrete and therefore, easy to deal with, as opposed to Emma's emotional and/or psychological troubles. Even in the short 24 hours since the shooting, everyone she encountered either pretended it didn't happen or constantly hounded her over it. She loved her parents dearly, but she specifically asked them not to accompany her today. Emma knew their questions would increase tenfold while being in such near vicinity to the boy who saved her life. She just couldn't deal. She needed to be alone. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option, according to Spike, so along came Manny.

"Well, well, well. Who do we have here?" Emma looked up suddenly as someone grabbed Jay's rabbit out of her lap.

"Hey!" Emma stood up and came face-to-face with Alex Nunez, "Give that back."

"What the hell is this? Is this for him?" Alex gestured towards Jay's door, from which she had just exited.

"Well, he saved my life, I couldn't exactly go in empty-handed." Emma repeated what she said to Manny, snatching the stuffed animal back and holding it close to her chest. She was getting tired of defending her gift choice. She was already nervous enough about seeing Jay.

"Yeah, a life for a rabbit. That's a fair trade-off." Alex rolled her eyes, then smirked, "Then again, it was you, wasn't it, Cause Girl? Your life probably _is_ worth just as much as that fugly fleece thing."

"Good to see that even in the face of tragedy, you can still be a bitch, Alex." Emma replied, mimicking Alex's smirk. Emma was surprised when Alex looked down.

"We all deal in our own separate ways, Cause Girl." Alex looked back up, "Anyway, he probably won't be shocked to see you, but don't expect too much. He's being pretty quiet."

"I have no expectations." Emma said simply, shrugging her shoulders once, "I just want to thank him."

Alex pursed her lips, and then nodded, patting Emma on the back before walking away. Emma looked behind her, crinkling her brow. It was the closest thing to kindness Alex Nunez had ever exhibited towards her. She caught Manny's eye. Manny just shrugged and smiled, laughing soundlessly at Alex. Emma half-heartedly returned the smile and faced Jay's room again. She took in a deep breath and clutched the toy to her once again. _Now or never, Nelson,_ Emma told herself as she walked up to Jay's door. Room 580. Her stomach flipped over itself. She wasn't quite sure why she was so nervous to see Jay. _You don't know how he'll react._ Emma pushed her thoughts aside. Regardless of her previous relationship with Jay, he still saved her life and he deserved her gratitude, in person and not just simply implied. Taking yet another breath, she pushed the cold, silver handle of the door down and stepped in.

"Spinner?" Jay shot his head up from his pillow. His eyes registered Emma's form and sunk back down, with a hint of a smirk, "Oh. Greenpeace. Hi."

"Hi." Emma quietly closed the door behind her. Her palms were soaking wet, "Spinner isn't here, as far as I know."

Jay snorted, "Figures." Emma smiled awkwardly and touched the door handle again, seriously considering throwing the toy at Jay, muttering gratitude, and running away as fast as she could. Jay obviously sensed her hesitation and sighed, motioning her forward with his free hand, "Entrée. I won't bite."

Emma took a few steps forward while alternately taking in her surroundings. Everything, from Jay's blanket and pillows to the walls to the curtains to the tile was a disgusting, blinding shade of sea foam green. It gave her the distinct feeling of vertigo.

"Hope you like pale green." Emma commented, attempting to make light of the fairly serious situation. Surprisingly, Jay laughed.

"Tell me about it. I'm sure less people would die in hospitals if they called in those Queer Eye guys from the States to spruce it up or something."

"I think they mostly do clothing, not interior design." Emma commented.

"Well, I don't watch it."

"Oh."

"I don't get cable." Jay explained, "Not that I'd watch it if I did." He quickly amended, manhood still in tact.

"Oh." Emma repeated.

Determined not to let the dreaded Awkward Silence fill the room so much that they both drowned, Emma searched frantically for something to talk about. Well, they had plenty to talk about, but she figured it wouldn't be best to jump immediately into the heavy stuff. Her eyes flicked to Jay's arm; the one in a bright blue sling. She was dying to ask him what exactly had happened when the gun went off and if he was going to be all right, but she couldn't find the right words.

"So, I didn't know you and Spinner were close friends." It was all she could come up with.

"We're not," Jay replied, shaking his head, "I mean, we hang out and stuff, but we're not close in the way you chicks talk about closeness or whatever. I was just...expecting him to come. To talk about something."

"Oh." Emma said, deciding not to push it any further than that. After all that had happened, the thought of a conversation between Jay and Spinner made her feel queasy.

Jay smirked again, "You know, Greenpeace, there are other ways to respond in a conversation than the word 'Oh.' Do hospitals make you nervous or something?"

Emma's eyes flared, "Okay, I've only said 'Oh,' like, twice. It's not as if we're best friends or something. I'm _trying_ to be friendly."

"Why would you do that? You hate me." Jay laughed. Emma stared down at him, pursing her lips.

"Are you serious, Jay? You know why."

"If I recall correctly, we were having a fight almost immediately before Rick came along. You're right, we aren't friends." Jay ran his free fingers through his hair, "Look, it doesn't shock me that you came, but I still don't quite understand it."

Emma sighed. _He_ decided to go for the heavy stuff right away. Typical. He just always had to be her antithesis, didn't he?

"I came here to thank you." Emma finally conceded, sitting down on the chair next to his bed. It was also sea foam green. Naturally.

"Don't. I don't want to be treated any differently. Especially not by you." Jay replied, forcing eye contact.

"Kind of impossible, Jay. You saved my life."

"You could've been anyone." He shot back, "It was just instinct, okay?"

"An instinct I honestly didn't think you had in you. It's big, Jay. People are calling you the school hero."

Jay barked out a hard laugh, "That's fucking ridiculous."

Emma shook her head, "No. It's really not. If you hadn't stepped in, who knows how many people could have been injured or would have died."

"As opposed to the already existing two injuries and one death? It's already pretty bad, Emma. Really bad." Jay was staring down at his sling, his blue green eyes blazing, "And like you said, I'm the bad guy."

"No, you aren't. I was wrong and I'm sorry I accused you – "

"Don't get all gooey. I wasn't offended." Jay rolled his eyes, "It doesn't matter. Crisis mostly averted, right? I just want to move on. Go back to the way things were."

"It's that simple for you?" Emma asked, "Because I don't know if anything will ever be the same for me."

"Why? He didn't shoot you." Jay felt a flare of anger. _Just like Greenpeace to make this all about her._

"He was going to."

"Well, he didn't. End of story, Emma." Jay closed his eyes, somewhat hoping that when he opened them, she'd have stormed out. He popped one eye open. No such luck. Instead, she was staring down at her hands and her lips were trembling. He sighed, "Jesus, don't cry."

"I'm sorry. I really am. It's just...it's just not that simple for me, okay? There's stuff you don't know." Emma sniffled, feeling smaller by the second. She never should've come.

"Fine." Jay said, nodding, "Whatever."

"I really just wanted to thank you. I know it probably doesn't mean much to you, but what you did...it was – I saw my life flash before my eyes." She hoped that would be enough of an explanation. He raised his eyebrow, silently telling her to continue. She sighed, "I was frozen. When he raised the gun, I should've run away but I couldn't. All I could think about were my parents and how I might not ever see them again, you know? How devastated they would be, that my life ended at such a young age. Because my life would've definitely ended, Jay. He pointed the gun at my head. My...face. And it was all my fault."

"No, it was Rick's fault." Jay corrected. There was no way in hell he would let anyone forget that, not even Jimmy's friends after they would inevitably start blaming Spinner. Just because Rick died didn't mean he wasn't still the one and only villain.

"It was indirectly my fault." Emma whispered, sniffing, "I don't really want to talk details and I'm sure you don't care enough to hear them."

"Not really, no." Jay smirked. Emma hiccupped a tiny laughsob. _Only Jay._

"I don't think I've ever been as surprised or elated as when you tackled Rick to the ground as the gun went off." Emma was serious again, staring into Jay's eyes. He quickly looked away.

"Yeah, because you probably thought you got rid of both the psycho i and /i the asshole, all in one fell swoop."

"No." Emma grabbed Jay's hand, "You saved my life. I can't hate you anymore, Jay. Even if I could've been anybody, I wasn't. I was me and I'm alive because of you. You _are_ a hero, Jay. A real one. Mine." He looked back into her eyes, shocked at her words. No one had ever...he wasn't the type of guy that girls gave long speeches to, proclaiming him to be their hero. He just wasn't. Hell, he was usually the type girls slapped and called a prick before storming away in a huff. This "hero" business was new territory. He searched her eyes for mocking, only to be doubly disturbed when he found none. A smile threatened to pull at his lips as he tilted his head, still simply staring at Emma. Were her eyelashes always that long? Allowing the aforementioned smile to move his lips, he stared down in wonder, shocked that any of this was even happening. When he saw her tiny hand encircling his, though, it was as if reality crashed.

He didn't deserve this.

He didn't deserve anything.

He pulled his hand away quickly, as if she was somehow burning him. He narrowed his eyes into slits.

"Whatever. Are we done? Because I'm sure I have thousands of fans waiting to greet their _hero._"

Emma slumped back in the chair, defeated. For a couple of moments, there, she thought she had reached him. _No such luck, I guess._

"Yeah, we're done. Like I said..."

"'You just wanted to thank me,'" Jay raised his voice an octave, mimicking Emma. He laughed, dropping his voice back to normal, "You mentioned, Greenpeace."

Emma turned to leave, a little miffed, until she realized she was still holding the stuffed animal. Sighing, she turned around and faced Jay.

"I know you'll probably think it's stupid, but I got you this." She tossed him the toy, which he easily caught with his free hand, "Just to personalize the room a little or something."

Jay looked down at the rabbit, confused, "Why doesn't it have a nose?"

"I'm not sure." Emma answered honestly, "It was just the most Jay-like thing I could find."

This made Jay laugh, rather heartily, "I'm that ugly? Sheesh, Greenpeace."

Emma just smiled, still slightly hesitant. She couldn't quite suss out what his actual reaction was.

He looked up at her, squinting, trying to figure her out. Shaking his head with a smile, he placed the bunny down next to him on the bed. He ignored the voice in the back of his head that told him that Alex wasn't considerate enough to bring him something like Emma did. That didn't matter. It was just a stupid stuffed rabbit. An ugly one at that. Still, she spent her own money on it...and it did have a certain charm. It was obviously misshapen and, at first glance, it would repulse most people, but it was still a perfectly good rabbit. Kind of like those toys in that Christmas special about Rudolph. Nobody wants to play with a Charlie in the Box. Jay couldn't quite explain it – maybe it was because it had been years since someone had voluntarily given him a present – but he felt a warming sensation in his stomach as he ran his finger over the message on the rabbit's heart. He decided then that it actually meant something to him, shocking as it may be.

"Thanks, Emma. That was really nice of you." He said slowly, before breaking into a big smile, "And I'm even being sincere."

"I know," Emma replied, visibly brightening, "It's a nice change in you. You should try it more often."

"Don't count on it." Jay smirked.

Emma smiled again.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Jay."

--


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N: This chapter has Alex in it, but this story is not a Jay/Alex pairing at all. Just letting you know in case anyone likes Jay/Alex and thinks that's where it's going. She will, however, be a fairly large part of the story.**

As the automatic doors slid open, allowing the slightly chilled Toronto air fill the hospital foyer, Jay closed his eyes, practically luxuriating in the feel of sweet freedom. As far as he was concerned, being forced to stay in a hospital room for three days so quacked doctors could operate on his shattered elbow was akin to what he had heard about prison, though with slightly better amenities. Slightly. The smell of sick people was beginning to wear him thin and Jay Hogart was not known around town for his particular brand of patience. He took in a deep breath, his lungs filling with autumn and car exhaust, his new favorite combination. Finally, things would go back to normal. Then, he opened his eyes.

_Holy. Fucking. Shit._

"Jay Hogart, over here!"

Cameras were everywhere, blinding him. It took him a moment to register what was happening, when it dawned on him. The press was here to talk to him about the shooting. Jay felt the sudden urge to stomp around, pouting, and screaming like a three year old with a wild temper tantrum. Instead, he shielded his eyes from both the light of the direct sun and the flashing bulbs of the cameras. How the hell were they going to use these pictures? He wasn't even _doing_ anything. Jay glanced down at his sling. Maybe that's what they wanted a picture of. His battle wound. Either way, it was pretty fucked that they would attack him as soon as he got out of the hospital. Give a brother some room to breathe, man.

"If we could just take a moment of your time, Mr. Hogart!"

He could barely make out what they were saying; he was surrounded by a loud buzzing sound of inane introductions to his arrival and questions being thrown toward him a mile a minute. They were asking him what he thought, how he felt, why he reacted the way he did. Questions he didn't even know the answers to, so fuck them. He was getting out of here, immediately. Unfortunately, the reporters obviously didn't want that to happen as they were all crowding in on him more and more with each passing moment. _If there's ever a good time to fake claustrophobia, this might be it._

"School hero, Jason Hogart—"

"Give the patient space, he is still recovering from an operation –"

"We have freedom of the press, sir!"

"Mr. Hogart, what can you tell us about your family?"

"Is your mother proud, Mr. Hogart?"

"Jay, please talk to us!"

Jay brought his free hand to his head, feeling dizzy. What was happening?

"Do you spell your name with one "G" or two?"

"Jason Hobart, is it? Ho_gart?_"

He swallowed, looking around for a way out. There was none.

"Is there any legitimacy to rumors that you have been through a juvenile delinquent program more than twice in your lifetime?"

Finally, Jay just trucked through, pushing past if he had to. Most of the reporters were women, with far too much perfume on. It made Jay feel nauseous, but even more determined to get home than he was before. He needed nicotine – _now._

"How does it feel to be a hero, Mr. Hogart?"

He stopped. That one got him like a knife in the gut. He felt like laughing. How _dare _they presume to ask him how he felt? Hell, he didn't know himself. The last thing on earth he wanted to deal with was some Mama's Boy, Golden Boy, smiling novice reporter – not even a fucking _journalist _– trying to get some ridiculous human interest story. The bad boy turned soft; risking his life for the lives of two geeks and, ultimately, the entire school. It was a Lifetime movie in the making, right? Like hell. Turning around, he faced the reporter, his eyes hot, almost piercing a hole through the man's high forehead.

"What?" Jay whispered harshly.

"I said, how does it feel to be a hero?" Jay grabbed the microphone from the man's hand and glared, smoke practically coming out of his ears.

"It feels like you should mind your own goddamn business. Now leave me alone!" With that, Jay threw the microphone down on the ground and stormed away, leaving a trail of dumbfounded faux journalists in his wake.

--

Climbing through his small window onto his apartment building's black metal fire escape, Jay breathed in a sigh of relief and cigarette smoke. He was alone, truly alone, at last. If there was one thing Jay Hogart couldn't function without, it was solitude. Funny – most people thought he existed solely on chaos; both in creation and life. True, he liked to raise hell once in awhile – okay, a lot – but he always needed to recharge. Sit, smoke, and just...be. It gave him hope that maybe living was worth it, in the end, if one could gain such immense pleasure from just being. He was no fuckin' Buddhist, but it must be some form of enlightenment or whatever. _Something Rick obviously didn't possess_, Jay noted. It made him roll his eyes when he watched the news reports saying that someone should have talked to Rick about what and how he was feeling prior to the shooting. Jay knew for a fact that if he – Jay – was that desperate, the last thing he'd want is to talk to someone who otherwise wouldn't give a shit about him, except to stop him from blowing the school to bits. No, what Rick needed was someone who could teach him how to just chill out. Not be so uptight all the time. That's probably where the source of his anger came from. Yeah, sure, Jay got into his fair share of fights, but his reboots were what kept him sane; they stopped him from ever taking a fight too far. _Then again, Rick wasn't really fighting. He had a very singular goal. _Jay's stomach turned as his mind automatically flashed to the moment he saw the gun. His Adam's Apple felt too large for his throat even in thinking about that particular memory. Then, when he had jumped Rick and the gun, tangled and crooked in Jay's arm, went off, sending the bullet through the tip of his elbow and into Rick's heart...it was too much. Just too fucking much. Rick had tried to kill him and, honestly, as Jay thought back on events earlier that day, it wasn't as though he didn't deserve it.

Taking a slow drag on his Marlboro, Jay forced thoughts of the shooting out of his brain. He didn't know why it was affecting him so much. He had seen worse at the ravine and even in his own household before, much worse. Besides, thinking too much about something in the past interfered with the solace of his solitude. He preferred to not think about anything at all. If he could just sit, smoke, and be, than everything was right in the world. It was his mantra, he guessed. He chuckled at the continued allusion to Buddhism. Like he'd ever affiliate himself with any religion or any sort of spirituality. That kind of stuff was for freaks; like those Friendship Club people who were always trying to convert him against his evil ways. Jay happened to think very highly of his evil ways and felt an immediate disdain for those who looked down upon them. Hence, his automatic hatred of Emma Nelson. Recently, though, he had to admit, at least since their last conversation, it wasn't _exactly _hatred he felt for Nelson. He didn't want to be bosom buddies with her, but it was different, as much as it pained him to admit. Leaning slightly back, he pondered on her relationship with Cameron. There must've been something about her that drew him in. Was that happening to Jay? He almost laughed. The idea of him having...those...kind of feelings for Greenpeace was ridiculous. She was everything he was against and he was everything she despised. It was crazy and he was letting it go.

_Though, she might not be too bad for a quick round at the ravine..._ Jay's lips quirked into a tiny smirk, when he was suddenly interrupted.

"Will Smith, Circa 1993 called. He wants his sideways hat back." Jay shot his head up and found himself staring at the grinning face of his girlfriend. Jay furrowed his brow, confused. Then, remembering that his omnipresent black hat was, in fact, on sideways, he broke out into a grin himself.

"Well, Jenny From the Block wants her hoop earrings back." Jay retorted. Sobering, he tilted his head, "How'd you find me?"

"Where else would you go?" Alex plopped herself down on the windowsill next to Jay, "I climbed three stories on this thing; I'm surprised you didn't hear me come up."

"Lost in thought, I guess." Jay automatically replied.

"Don't hurt yourself." Alex nudged him in the ribs.

"Funny," Jay glared, and then smirked. Reaching in his jacket pocket, he pulled out his cigarette pack, "You want one?"

Alex shook her head, "No, I'm trying to quit."

"And why is that?" Jay's eyebrows rose. He had his suspicions, but wondered if Alex would actually confirm them.

"Apparently, they cause cancer. Who knew?" Alex laughed, shifting away from Jay's unrelenting gaze.

"Paige." He stated simply, "She doesn't smoke. Her cronies don't smoke, either."

"So?" Alex bristled, and then noticed the look on Jay's face; he wasn't happy, "What? You gonna try to peer pressure me back into it? Tell me it's what all the cool kids are doing?"

"No," Jay's voice rose, "My point is that it's what the 'cool kids' _aren't_ doing and you're buying into their bullshit. I mean, Jesus, Alex! I don't care if you quit, but not if it's to impress those morons."

"They aren't morons!" Alex barked, her expression dark, "They're my friends and you'd better learn to deal with that. They're good people."

"Oh yeah, right, because they didn't treat you like shit for...oh, every other year except this one!"

"I gave it right back." She muttered, "This is stupid. I mean, you hang out with Spinner."

"Yeah. Spinner. He's a real prince." Jay rolled his eyes, "Besides, you know he's different than them. I mean, you're even friends with the queer kid. It's pathetic."

"You're pathetic!" Alex yelled, standing up, "I don't know why I even bother with you anymore. I don't know why I even came here."

"Maybe because I just got _shot._" Jay seethed, pointing at his sling. Alex froze and stared down at his left arm, the one in the sling. Closing her eyes, she sighed, sitting back down.

"Amazing how your stupid big mouth can make me forget even that." She gently touched the strap of the sling, looking up at Jay through her eyelashes, concern written on her face, "How are you?"

Jay pulled quickly away, "Super, thanks for asking." He took a drag on his cigarette, not offering anymore information than that. A second ago, she was telling him he was pathetic and now she's playing the caring girlfriend? Screw her.

Alex pursed her lips.

"Jay, we need to talk about what happened." Alex breathed in, "That's – that's why I came here. To talk about what happened." _Breathe out._

"You mean my heroism?" Jay asked, mockingly upbeat with a huge fake smile on his face.

Alex narrowed her eyes and whispered, "You know what I mean. We caused this."

"And I stopped it." Jay forcefully replied, "Subject closed."

Alex bit the inside of her lip. She could feel one of their blitzkrieg fights coming on. Intense, quick, earth-shattering, powerful, painful...kind of like their sex life. Knowing that Jay wouldn't let her get far, she said what she was thinking as quickly as she could. She was going to say what she wanted to say or damn him to hell.

"Jimmy Brooks is paralyzed and it's our fault. So is Rick's death." Alex implored Jay to cooperate with her eyes, resting her hand on his knee, "Look, I don't want to take away from what you did, saving those kids was something I never would have expected from you, but we still need to face the fact that we set up the paint." Jay dropped his cigarette and quickly put his hand over Alex's mouth, angrily shushing her, looking around.

"You _never_ say that out loud again, do you understand?" He pulled his hand away and immediately, Alex lashed out.

"You _never_ touch me like that again, do _you_ understand?" She punched his good arm, hard, causing Jay to let out a little yelp of pain, "Now, I know you don't like to deal with things –"

"No, I deal with things fine. You just like to rehash them constantly until we've got a huge dead horse with a million bruises in the middle of our metaphorical floor." Jay swiftly pulled out another cigarette, shaking as he tried to flick on his lighter, "Dammit, light." He muttered to himself.

"I thought that you'd be more willing to talk about this because of your involvement in –"

"Well, you thought wrong." Jay cut Alex off, not caring to hear her bring up, once again, the fact that he was the new official, School Hero, "There's nothing to talk about. It wasn't our fault. Rick was a Grade-A Psycho of the first class. The way I look at it, we did the world a favor."

Alex pulled back in shock, "How can you be so calloused? You were _there_, Jay."

"And you weren't, Alex! You don't know what went down. You didn't see him point a gun at a completely innocent girl!" Jay threw the lighter onto the ground, frustrated, and watched as it cracked, nearly shattering, "Great. Fantastic. Now, I have to get a new one."

"He pointed that gun at Emma because of you, Jay. Because of us. If we hadn't set up that paint, none of this would have ever happened." Alex said, staring intensely ahead of her.

"Fuck you." Jay whipped his head around to look at her, "Seriously. Fuck you."

"I need to deal with what happened, we all do. You, especially." Alex's voice was just above a whisper, "You have the most to work through. You need to deal with it, Jay." Alex reiterated, her eyes actually filling with tears.

"And you need to leave. Now." Jay pointed down the fire escape, this time refusing to look at her.

Choking back her tears, Alex stood up and clutched onto the railing, taking tiny steps down, away from her boyfriend. She was right. It had been quick. And brutal. Worse than any other fight they'd ever had and they'd had some doozys. The tears began to flow as she continued to make her way down. She had never felt so much guilt in her entire life and now...she didn't even know who she was anymore. She thought she had been avenging her mother, but it had turned into something ugly. Something horrible and everyone had suffered because of it. _Yeah, my mom would be really proud._ She stopped on the second floor platform and wiped her tears away. She turned around and looked at Jay, still perched on the windowsill, his arm in that ugly sling, and his eyes not focused on any one thing in particular. What she would give to turn back the clock so _they_ could just go back to their normal fights. Hell, they even had a normal fight moments before, but then...

_Nothing will ever be the same again._ Alex clutched her arms around her waist and leaned against the brick wall of the apartment building, sadness taking her in.

It was ending.

Everything.

Her previous self image.

Who she was, essentially, as a person.

Her former life as she knew it, which mostly consisted of...

...Her relationship with Jay.

Hell, _that _might even be over, Alex honestly wasn't sure.

She didn't want to lose Jay, she was sure of that.

But Jay might've already lost her.

In the blitzkrieg.

--


End file.
